Lost In Translation
by xDemolitione
Summary: Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, and you're tired of being alone in this new world. Davekat, first person, post-sburb/sgrub, new universe. [Character count: 42413.] [Word count: 7741.] [Sentence count: 413.]


The bar is loud and crowded, the air thick with smoke and alcohol, and you have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to come here. He won't remember you, and you're not even sure if you'll recognise him when you see him.

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, you are 8.5 sweeps old, and you are looking for an old friend in a new place.

You landed a few months ago, but due to trauma from your fall, you lost most of those months to a coma. You look exactly as you did before you fell. You hope the others do, too. It would make this a whole lot easier.

The world is not one you'd been to before. It's not even the human's world. There are all sorts of people here, both Troll and human.

You'd won. Your race wasn't extinguished. The hemospectrum was no longer a thing that mattered. But there was nobody to celebrate with. You woke up in a clean hospital bed, your dark grey skin tainting the sterile white of the room. They let you go. You protested, saying you didn't know where to go, that you had nowhere.

They told you you were clearly still suffering from the fall, that you had a hive. They told you you'd jumped from the top of it, that your lusus had found you just in time.

They believed that's what happened. You knew better.

Now here you were, wrapped up in unfamiliar black jeans, a grey hoodie open over your Cancer shirt. He'd always told you the sweatpants were ugly as sin, after all.

You push past some asshole blueblood troll and ignore his yells of protest - he forgets about you almost instantly, back to chatting up some human girl. He reminds you of Equius. You forget about it. You're not sure you'll ever be used to seeing so many unfamiliar humans when you were barely used to seeing unfamiliar trolls. They all look so weird, so alien.

You debate heading for the bar briefly before the lights go out, the stereo music dying down to a low hum as the lights by the stage begin to flash.

This is it.

A flash of white-blonde from stage right, he barely even acknowledges the crowd as he steps swiftly behind the mess of wires and turntables, lights seeming to flash on the deck before his hands even touch them. The music starts and you find you recognise it. This was one of your favourites.

"Now's as good a time as any." You mumble to yourself, inaudible to any others as you push through the crowd towards the lights and noise. You make it to the stage easily, the people in this bar more appreciative of the noise than of the guy creating it. You want to punch them all in the face just to make them look, make them notice him.

You just stand there for the whole song, your orange nails gripping the padded barrier that rests against the edge of the stage. You're staring, trying to get shades-to-eye-contact, but he's too lost in the music to look at you. You'd rather he didn't see you than he looks right at you and doesn't recognise you, though. You panic for a moment then, and debate going back, swaying slightly where you stand before you look back at him.

"Just fucking look at me you chafing bulgestrap." You mutter in his direction. You're not sure if he hears you or just feels your weighted stare, but he does. He looks right at you.

You just stare, wide-eyed, your mouth slightly open in the least attractive face you've probably ever pulled. You're terrified. You wish a drone would just come and fucking cull you already. But then he smirks at you, that familiar "you're my bro but that doesn't mean I ain't gonna fuck with you" smirk, and you try and sort your face out into a reasonable response. you manage a half-assed, one-fang-still-visible kind of smile and you see him shake his head and go back to concentrating on the music. You notice it barely skipped a beat during that whole interaction. You probably would've knocked everything over if the roles were reversed.

You wait by the bar until the music stops sounding like Dave, and when you look back at the stage you see it's empty. You smile sadly, getting up and heading towards the door. You'll be back next week. Maybe next week you'll get here earlier and actually talk to him. Maybe.

You head out the door into the cold night air, zipping your hoodie back up and shoving your hands in your pockets. You make it about 30ft away before you hear a yell from back in the direction of the bar.

"Hey asshole! Where the fuck do you think you're going?!"

You turn around to see Dave stood by the door to the bar, his left hand and foot keeping it open as he stares at you. You just stand there, body facing the road, head towards Dave.

"That means get back here you prick!" Dave calls out again, lowering his voice to add "You can't just show up here and then ditch on me."

You start walking back over, still having said nothing to the guy stood there in just his broken record shirt and skinny jeans. He must be fucking freezing, you think, humans have a lower body temperature than lowbloods as it is, and you're cold already.

You make it back to him, it's probably the longest walk you've ever taken.

He says nothing when you reach him, but lets the door swing shut as he launches himself at you in a way that is so not Dave. It takes you a moment to register the fact his arms are around you, but you slowly lower yours to his back, confirming the fact that yes, he's freezing.

"You're such an asshole for only just turning up here, I swear." He says into your hair. You're almost the same height now, but he still has a bit of an advantage.

"The fuck are you on about Strider?" You ask, still unsure about the fact he's hugging you. You only ever hugged once or twice before now and it wasn't as sincere as this.

"We've all been here for months and you clearly knew where I was, why not see me sooner you little shit?" Dave says, pulling back out of the hug and holding you at arms' length.

"I was in a fucking coma that's why. Did nobody else have that? Was I seriously the only pathetic loser to be unconscious for 80% of the time we've been on this planet?"

"I wouldn't know." Dave said, then, letting his hands drop from your shoulders, "You're the first person I've seen."

You just stare blankly for a second, before asking him to repeat himself.

"I haven't seen anyone else. Woke up six months ago in my bed in my apartment with a load of texts asking if I could do some gigs, replied with fuck yes I can, been doing that all the way up to today. Nobody else has tracked me down and I had no clue where to start looking for anyone. Figured if my name was on enough posters someone'd find me." Dave shrugged it off, but you could see he was upset about it.

You look at him then, concerned, "Not even John-"

"No. Karkat when I say nobody's looked for me I mean nobody. Just you, and you're what, half a year late?" He smirks, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Well, here I am. Better late than never."

You just stand there for a minute or so, thinking. Dave doesn't say anything, you can't tell where he's looking, his eyes covered by the reflective shades and shielded by the darkness of the night. It's not until the wind starts to pick up that you think of how cold he must be.

"Strider you must be fucking crazy to be out here without a coat."

He laughs, then, and you laugh too, because that was a really stupid thing to say. After the laughter dies down a little you try and word your next request a little more carefully.

"How far away is your apartment, anyway?"

"Oh Mr. Vantas, you do know how to speak with the ladies!" Dave mocks, "But like two tube rides, why?"

"My hive's literally just round the corner if you wanted to come hang out?"

Dave seems to think about it for a while, glancing back to the bar for a moment before shrugging, stepping beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Lead the way. No reason to go home anyway."

"What about your-?"

"Nah." Dave says shortly, waving his free hand and cutting you off.

"But, my lusus-"

"Bro's alive man, don't worry, I just don't live with him anymore. A man can only take so much plush rump to the face before he has to draw the line, y'know?"

"Oh." You say, unsure how to continue from there. So you continue your walk in silence, an eight-minute walk extended to at least twice the time due to Dave's slow, relaxed pace.

Your hive's lights are out, so either your lusus is asleep or he's forgotten how the switches work again. Technology has never been his strong point.

You open the door quietly, signalling for Dave to do the same. You can see him grinning and shaking his head as you act like a wriggler about to be caught sneaking out, but he stops at the sight of your lusus curled up on the couch, just visible through the door, all big and menacing and fast asleep.

You look back at him, challenging him to take this piss.

"Cute crabdad." Is all he whispers, leaning to look around you and nodding at the stairs in question.

You shrug and nod, heading past your lusus and up the stairs towards your respiteblock.

It's a mess. You know it's a mess. You're pretty sure Dave knows it's a mess, too. You switch the light on to reveal a room littered with clothes and books, several dents in the newly reinforced floor due to encryption modus related incidents.

Dave says nothing though, simply goes and seat himself on the computer chair, swivelling it around a couple times before turning to face you, raising an eyebrow.

"I've been here a full five minutes and I'm still dressed, I'm offended, Karkat."

"Shut the fuck up." You laugh, used to his remarks by now, "What do you wanna do? I have games and films and books and..." you pause, looking around, "well that's about it."

"I haven't watched films with anyone for fucking ages, so that'd be perfect."

You spend the evening watching shitty rom-coms, and Dave's surprisingly okay with it. His commentary and re-dubs of the films only temporary and welcome interruptions.

The sun's coming up by the time you stop bothering to put on movies. You're sat on the floor on a mound of pillows and clothes, leant against the side of your recuperacoon.

"Sun's coming up." Dave notes, looking out the window. The sun on this planet isn't as strong as the one back on Alternia, so every troll is able to venture out in the day. Everyone's sleep patterns seem to vary drastically on this new planet due to the simple matter of preference.

"Yeah.." You say, not really wanting to admit Dave should probably go home. He's the only friend you know the location of right now and you remember now how much you hate being alone.

"I ain't sleepin' in that goo so I guess I call the pile." Dave smirks, leaning his head back a little to look at you. You blink back at him. He looks apologetic. "Unless you don't want me here all up in your personal space that is?"

"No! No it's not that just, shit, one sec." You stumble, getting up off the floor and heading into the next room - the spare-room-turned-storage-cupboard. You enter back into the room dragging a mattress and a duvet you'd discovered in there about a month ago. Finally got a use for it.

Dave laughs, then; his shades slipping down a little from their permanent place over his eyes, "It's like you planned this whole thing."

"Shut up and put this somewhere you wastechute, You're not sleeping on a pile of anything, I am so done with piles of things."

Dave sets up the mattress, pillows and cover against the wall at the back of the room, adjacent to the one by your recuperacoon. By the time you're both settled in and asleep the sun is fully up and the curtains are shut tightly against the rays. Old habits die hard, you guess.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you know when you're woken up. You feel a hand on the top of your head, resting just between your horns, and a voice saying your name quietly. You have to blink a couple of times before you can make out the glint of red irises reflected in the thin beam of sunlight, Dave's rested one arm on the edge of your recuperacoon, his chin on his forearm, the other arm reached out to you.

"Noise downstairs, think your crabdad wants you." he says, voice raspy with incomplete sleep.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a few more seconds before placing your hands at the rim of the recupracoon and lifting yourself out, glad you decided to keep your boxers on today. Dave moves back, settling himself back down on the mattress. You lower yourself to the floor, wiping away any stray slime with your hands as you head out the door to the stairwell.

You pause for a moment, retreating to your room and taking your sickle (being very careful not to captchalogue it) and then heading back to the stairs. You hear Dave laugh a little from the other side of the room.

You head downstairs to the brightly lit hive, looking out for the tall white shape of your lusus. You hope this won't end in a strife, you're doing so well with him behaving...

You hear him before you see him, walking out of the rumpusblock, chittering away loudly. He spots you and gets louder, more frantic, and moves back into the block. You sigh and follow him, fully prepared to see what he wants to show you and then promptly go back to sleep.

When you walk into the other room, your lusus is sat (as best as he can sit) on the couch, looking at you blankly, and yet with more emotion than you've seen in him in a while.

"What's wrong?" You ask. He chitters lowly in response.

You really wish he could speak.

"Did I do something wrong?" You try.

He chitters absently. That's not it.

"You know someone else is here, don't you?"

He looks up sharply, chittering more loudly, verging on angry screeches, you shoosh at him, signalling for him to please calm down. You place your sickle on the table beside the door before trying to talk again.

"Dave's a good guy, okay? I know you haven't actually met him but he's the reason I've been okay the past few sweeps, so please don't try and fucking maul him when he comes down later."

A few clicks and a head-turn signals you've won this one. You walk over to your lusus and pat his head absently, the hard shell surprisingly warm to the touch. His almost featureless face rests against your arm a little and you feel a claw clutch protectively at your shoulder.

You'll never admit how much you love your lusus. As an equal, not just as a protector and pet. You pet his head one more time before grabbing your sickle and heading back upstairs, hoping he settles down and goes back to sleep.

The room's still dark, and you're pretty sure Dave's asleep again. You place your sickle back down, unprepared for the clattering noise it makes against the table. Your guest stirs on the other side of the room, turning over just as you reach to lift yourself back into your recuperacoon.

Dave's voice pipes up quietly from the other side of the room, disguising a yawn, "Why'd you still sleep in that shit, you were doing fine without it on the meteor, and then for the rest of the game. Woulda thought the whole situation with the clown would've put you off."

"If I don't sleep in it I get nightmares." You answer, not in the mood to make excuses as you lift yourself back in. Dave seems to give up his side of the argument without fuss.

When you finally wake again, the sun is setting. You yawn and remove yourself from the sopor, yawning. You've never had the luxury of waking up fully rested, the ever-present dark bags under your eyes sufficient proof of that. Dave's sat on the mattress, fully dressed, flicking through some of your books.

"They're Alternian." You say out loud, as if he needed telling.

"I know." He nods in confirmation, "When we landed here and I realised the trolls were still using it I thought it was time I became multicultural and learned to read the fucking stuff."

You nod in approval, searching for clean clothes. You change in near-silence before sitting yourself next to Dave, reading over his shoulder. He's picked up a romance novel. Of course he has, because that's basically all you have in the way of literature. If you're thankful for one thing it's that the troll language was still in this new world, and so were all your books.

Something's missing. You don't know quite what it is until you realise there's nothing blocking Dave's face, even from the awkward angle you're at half-behind him. You look around a bit before seeing his shades perched on the desk next to your husktop.

"You're not wearing your shades." You point out pointlessly.

"I am aware. Easier to actually read and function as a human being without them on if I'm honest."

You sit there in silence for a while, turning yourself so you have your back against the wall, while Dave sits cross-legged facing the end of the mattress. You close your eyes and rest your head back against the hard wall, listening to the occaional turn of a page or shift of Dave moving himself around. You feel a weight shift and feel something connect with your lap, and open your eyes to see Dave's head resting on your thighs, his legs bent at the knee and book open on them.

You say nothing. You don't really mind him invading your personal space.

"Hey Karkat?" You look down again, two almost identical shades of red eyes meeting eachother in a pretty intense stare-down until you respond.

"Yeah?" You ask, confused as to why Dave's become all serious recently, when before he would've been too busy taking the piss out of your literature to actually have a conversation with you.

"Thanks. For looking for me, I mean. Otherwise I'd probably be just sat in my apartment alone and bored right now."

You give him a (perfectly platonic) hair-ruffle and he rolls his eyes at you.

"What else would I have done with my life, fuckass? All my other friends are dead."

"You don't know that. You haven't even looked for them." Dave says, his eyebrows drawing closer together as he shuffles further up, keeping his head on your lap and under your hand but turning a little to see you better.

"It wouldn't be the same if I found them again. I spent so long without any of them. It's not like fucking Eridan or Nepeta or even Sollux'd care about some asshole they played a game with in another universe."

"Shut the fuck up okay, from what I heard from the others you fucking saved Sollux's life when you could have just left him there like any other troll would've. If nobody else gave a shit he would. So would Terezi and Kanaya and every fucking person on my team." Dave is visibly angry at you and you really don't know what to do about it, "Now stop being a self-hating prick for five minutes, you were pitiful enough before we all landed on this planet."

You blink at him, then, but he can't have meant it like that. He's human, he doesn't get it.

"I was what?"

"Pitiful." Dave answers, not missing a beat. He's looking you right in the eyes. He's daring you.

You don't pity him. You don't hate him. You have no idea what you feel for Dave Strider at this moment but your stomach is tight and you're suddenly very aware that the two of you are alone in your respiteblock.

"You don't need to throw troll expressions at me, Dave."

He blinks, then, "Why's that?"

"Because nothing I'm feeling right now is even remotely troll." Your voice shakes a little but the two of you pretend it doesn't.

"Oh?" He sits up, leaning over you, one hand on the opposite side of your legs to where his body is, "How'd you mean?"

"I don't pity you. You're not pitiful. You're strong-minded and brave, and we're both defective-"

"Thanks."

"We're both defective in regards to our DNA, so I can't pity you for that. Your brother's a bit of an asshole to you but in the end that's why you were so good at the game. I also don't hate you. You're a massive sack of shameglobes to me alot of the time but you're joking about it. You're not a Matesprit because I can't pity you. You couldn't be a Kismesis because I don't hate you."

"I always did think you were a better human than you were a troll." Dave teases, laughing and laying back down, almost instantly going back to the book, leaving you confused and a little empty.

You simply go back to stroking the fringe out the way of his eyes, which he seems to approve of because he doesn't argue. His hair is soft - not as soft as yours, though. His hair has more substance to it, while the humans have always referred to troll hair as more like fur, soft and thick, but tough and almost impossible to pull out. His hair is thin and conditioned, almost silky.

"How long you willing to keep me here for, Mr Vantas?" Dave asks, then, briefly glancing at you before returning his eyes to the book.

"Leave whenever you want, I don't care." You say, staring intently at the suddenly interesting door on the other side of the room. You often forget the handle is crab-shaped. It's kind of embarassing.

"I should probably go get some clothes or something, it's hardly like I'll fit in any of yours." He laughs, sitting up with surprising ease and turning away from you. You can hear him pulling on his shoes even with his back to you.

He reaches for his shades before turning back around. You stand as he slides them over his eyes, walking over to the door and down the stairs with him.

"See you in like an hour or so, don't lock me out." He calls back as he opens the door. The cold night air rushes through and engulfs the two of you. "Shit it's cold."

"Should've brought a coat." You point out.

He shrugs, going to step out the door before you stop him, reaching behind the door for where you hung up your hoodie, handing it to him.

"You sure?" He asks, already putting it on and smirking at you.

"Just bring it back and there won't be any trouble." You open the door again and let him out.

When he returns, you've had time to tidy up a little. His hair's wet and he's wearing the unbroken record shirt and a different pair of jeans, carrying a backpack with him. Much to your surprise, he's still wearing your grey hoodie despite the fact his own is hooked through the arm of the bag.

He's talking at you the whole way through walking back up the stairs, but you're not really listening all that much.

"You realise you've been in my house more than a day without actually meeting my lusus right?" You interrupt him when you reach your respiteblock and he's placed his bag down.

He heads over towards you, hoodie still open over his shirt. He looks confused when you don't move.

"Come on then, introduce me."

You head downstairs, knowing your lusus will be stalking around down there somewhere. You find him in the rumpusblock, sat on the couch.

You walk in with Dave and he looks up, chittering frantically at Dave.

"This is Dave. He's staying here for a while, I guess." You say, signalling for Dave to walk forwards and introduce himself.

"Hey Mr Crabdad Vantas." Dave steps forwards.

The chittering gets louder, angrier. You almost step in but Dave puts a hand out. Not to stop you, though. He puts a hand out towards your lusus.

You then see the most surreal exchange ever. Your lusus leans forwards, inspecting Dave's open palm, before nudging it. He stand up from his awkward position on the couch, moving towards Dave, lowering his head to nudge at Dave's hand again, like a purrbeast. The human moves his hand up, resting it on your lusus' head. The chittering stops for one blood-pusher-stopping moment.

Your lusus rears back, chittering quietly. He bumps Dave on the head lightly with one of his claws before exiting the block, nudging your head with his own as he passes.

"I think he likes me." Dave shrugs. You're not sure what to say.

You spend the remainder of the evening just as you had before, watching films and letting Dave narrate them to his heart's content.

As you settle into your recuperacoon the following dawn, you're surprised to be almost instantly woken by a hand on the top of your head, by red eyes in the dawnlight.

"You're trying out human things. Room for one more in that godawful slime?" Dave asks quietly, removing his hand from your head and folding his arms on the edge of the hard purple pod. He went to bed in only his bright red boxers and must be pretty cold.

"You learned Alternian, fuckwit." You mumble tiredly, despite already moving over to make room. The hole in the top of the recuperacoon wider than it once was and easily allowing more than one body inside.

Dave lifts himself up and lowers himself next to you, clearly bracing himself. You don't know what for, the sopor's warm and comfortable. He relaxes visibly once he's in, though.

"I have no idea why I thought this was gonna be cold, like why the fuck would you sleep in it so happily if was freezing?"

"Shut up and go the fuck to sleep."

"That should definitely be a childrens' - sorry, wrigglers' - book."

"I'll write it if you shut up and go to sleep."

"How is this stuff even like, suspending me? It's like a liquid and then I don't even have to touch the fucking floor..."

"Strider."

"No wonder you guys sleep so well you're basically sleeping in zero-gravity warmth..."

"Dave."

"Karkat."

"Go to sleep."

He laughs a little awkwardly before settling himself down, falling quiet and letting you close your eyes.

You wake up a little groggy, but comfortable, and it takes a minute to realise those are Dave's arms around your chest and not your own. He's wrapped behind you, angled so only your back and his chest are touching, his head rested on your shoulder. His arms are warm, but not as warm as your own body. You figure that's why he's latched on. If you turn your head carefully, you can see his long fringe half-covering his eyes, his mouth slighly open. His face isn't tense like it is when he's awake. He looks younger like this, more like how he should have been to start with.

You still don't pity him. You think he's rather adorable when he's sleeping.

You lean your head sideways, touching your own hands to the arms around your chest.

"Dave?" You try and say, your voice still raspy from sleep.

His arms tighten and he turns his face further into your neck. You roll your eyes, digging your claws into his arm just enough for him to feel it.

"I'm awake, fuck sake don't claw me to death Vantas." He says into your neck. You laugh a little, retracting your claws from their close proximity to his frail skin. You've seen red blood before, it's not as interesting as it should be.

You still don't want to hurt him.

"Dave can you stop fucking around with my emotions and get the fuck off already?" You ask politely, pressing the backs of your claws against his skin, avoiding getting the points near him.

"No way, if you're that confused you should let me stay here a bit longer and I'll teach you the simple ways of human romance."

He punctuates that last point by biting your shoulder. You absolutely do not shiver at that.

"F-fuck." You stammer, closing your eyes.

"I'll make it one of those, too, if you're lucky." Dave says, resting his chin back on your shoulder, hesitating.

You just sit there for a while, imprinting the moment into your memory. You know Dave's upset about not knowing where anyone else is. You're the same. You don't know if you could ever have a relationship with anyone who didn't know, who wasn't there. You feel a little like you're Dave's last resort, his only chance to have something with another person who knew what he'd gone through, how many times he'd seen himself and everyone around him die. You'd watched almost everyone you ever cared about die. You all had. You'd been forked in the chest, for fuck's sake, you were never going to be able to settle down with a nice new troll and reproduce. It just wasn't going to happen.

"You're overthinking again, aren't you?" Dave asks. You nod in response. "What about this time?"

"I feel like you're just doing this because I'm the only one here." You admit quietly.

"Karkat I swear to god," Dave says, moving himself around until you're facing eachother, he runs a sopor-damp hand through his hair, not making eye contact, "yes you're the only one here. You're the only one who even bothered to fucking look for me, you cared enough to come and hunt me down in some shitty little bar I happened to be mixing at that one night after you'd just come out of a fucking coma."

You stop, then, just looking at him and the odd amount of emotion he's choosing to show you. It's a little overpowering.

"Karkat this is the shit they write stories about. This is all your romcoms with the shit parts taken out and replaced with war. We saved the fucking world together, created a universe, became gods. We overcame so much shit and you think I'm here with you just because you're the only one I can get to? We're here because of eachother."

You're not sure who moved first, but it was probably you.

Your lips press together a little desperately at first, your small but sharp teeth pressing into the inside of your lips before Dave starts pushing you backwards, pinning you against the rim of the recuperacoon. His hands move from the grub-scars on the sides of your ribs all the way up and into your hair while you pull his hips towards you.

"Fuck." He breathes out, pulling back from you a little.

"Yeah." You agree, the two of you laughing a little as he presses his forehead to yours, his fringe blocking your view of his eyes. You run your hand between your heads, pushing his fringe aside so when you reconnect it's not in the way. His hands are braced behind you on the rim of the recuperacoon, and you're very aware of the fact you should probably get the fuck out of this slime soon.

You voice this idea to Dave, and you're not sure why he finds it so funny, but he pulls away and hoists himself out of the slime, still laughing a little as he helps you out.

"The fuck is so funny?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

"You." He answers, "You get pinned up by a Strider and all you can think is 'oh, we should probably get out of my weird alien bed soon, it's getting late'."

"Shut the fuck up, you coming for a human shower or what?"

"After all this time do you really need to still add 'human' infront of shit like that?" Dave asks, almost breaking into laughter again.

You sigh, "They replaced my fucking ablution trap with a shower I have to use the terminology."

"Must be tough being you." Dave mocks, pulling you towards him and pretending to comfort you as if your young barkbeast had just died or something. You respond by biting his shoulder, which he doesn't seem to mind as much as he should. "At any rate Karkat we should save the shower for after I'm done teaching."

You take the initiative, leaning up to kiss him despite your still-troll biology not entirely understanding why you want to. You were always a bit of a freak anyway. He smiles, pressing you up against the outer wall of the recuperacoon purely because it's the nearest thing. You let him do it, you don't care who's in control anymore.

You don't mind when he leads you over to the mattress, or when he presses your damp body against the tough fabric with his own. He rubs his thumbs against the base of your horns, watching your expression as he does so. You roll your eyes at his curiosity but lean up and kiss him, admittedly moaning into his mouth a little when he switches to pulling on your hair.

Your hands slide easily over his skin, sopor residue barely visible but allowing for less friction than you want between your bodies. Dave settles himself between your legs, the cold night air chilling the two of you, your thighs feeling most of it as he leans back down, breathing heavily into your mouth as he tries to co-ordinate a kiss. You pull him further towards you, your fingers locking in his hair and tugging slightly. You now understand why the humans always said their methods of doing things were better. This is much more fun than awkwardly positioning yourself over a filial pail.

It's when his hands stray down past your grub scars and to your waistline that you realise he's shaking. You put your hands over his, nudging the side of his face with your lips to get him to look at you. He's trying to hide the fact he's "losing his cool", but you can't help seeing how blown his pupils are and how he's panting with every take of breath. You kiss him, slower this time, showing him you're just as confused about this as he is but there is nothing that will stop you from this point onwards. You slide your hands off his as he toys with your waistband, and you place your hands over his hips, pulling him forwards.

You can feel him pressing against you, rocking slightly in place as he continues his internal battle of whether of not to just remove your underwear already. You figure it's probably time to help with that and push your hips up, motioning for him to continue. You feel the fabric peel away from your thighs as he tugs it further down, shuffling back on the mattress to remove the clothing fully from you. The cold air hits your now-bare skin as you stare at Dave, waiting for his reaction.

He says nothing, crawling back up over you to kiss you again, his fringe falling in your eyes until you reach a hand up to push it back again.

"You need to cut your fucking hair, this is ridiculous." You announce quietly, just above a whisper. Dave laughs, lowering his forehead to rest on your shoulder.

"God, you know just what to say to get someone in the mood." He laughs, hiding the nervous edge in his voice.

"Alright just shut up and kiss me then, you raving douche."

"More like it." Dave smiles, kissing you deeply, working his way further into your mouth until your tongues are pressing together, avoiding the sharp points of your teeth, the roughness of your tongue rubbing against the smooth wetness of Dave's in what you imagine is much more intense than any other human/troll makeout ever to exist. This one's yours.

You work your hands underneath the red boxers still covering Dave, and he pauses, pulling out of the kiss and biting his bottom lip in what you can only see as a mixture of painfully aroused and panicking.

"Hardly fair if I'm the only one on show is it?" You whisper, biting at his jawline until he relaxes a little. He lets you pull the fabric down and takes it off all the way by himself. You try not to stare, because he didn't, but there is just so much more to look at on him than there is on you.

You feel heat at the pit of your stomach, organs so neglected up until now awakening in a confused rush of unknown feelings, like your bulge doesn't really know what it's doing because there is no potential matesprit or kismesis in sight, only a very pale, very naked member of another species.

Dave sees you staring, but he doesn't say anything, just shuffles backwards a little to look at you. There's not much to see, yet, but he doesn't look confused or surprised, and when he runs his hand over the shelf of bone resting just below your hips, you shiver, because that is by far the best thing you've ever felt.

He leans down to kiss you again, his hand rubbing lower towards the first small opening in your seemingly featureless body. You can feel the tight coil of your bulge unravelling and find yourself actively preparing for Dave to freak out. As the long, red, slick organ comes into view and essentially wraps itself around Dave's wrist, all he does is smile and breathe out something about thinking he was doing it wrong.

You pull him down to you, forcing him to let go of your bulge and brace himself against the mattress on his elbows, connecting your bodies with such force you almost cry out in pain. You feel your bulge wrap itself around something, and from the way he gasps you'd figure you wouldn't be wrong to assume it found Dave's own. You focus all your energy into controlling what it's doing and squeeze a little, the sound Dave makes when his breath hitches making the amount of concentration you have to put in entirely worth it.

You move from kissing him to biting lightly at his jaw, neck and shoulders, not enough to cause any pain.

"Karkat." He manages to choke out, making you look him in the eyes as he moves his hand, seperating your writhing bulge from his own rigid one, wrapping you around his hand and squeezing lightly. You feel a shock of sensation right up your spine and hold in a small yelp. The last thing you need right now is your lusus charging in thinking you've been hurt.

"Vantas I'm not asking twice." He whispers to you, pressing his lips close to your slightly pointed ears. You weren't even aware he asked once, but you nod eagerly. You know what he wants to do and well fuck you with a shovel if you don't want it just as much.

You meet eyes, then, as Dave presses himself up against your nook in what you can only assume is either a well-researched or practised way. You don't put too much thought into it, just into how fantastic it feels when he slides into you, his breath in your ear, fingers twisted in your hair while the other hand grips tightly to your writhing bulge. You're probably digging your claws into his back too hard but you can't clear your mind enough to stop. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him forwards and further into you, and you were so, so wrong earlier, because *this* is definitely the best thing you've ever felt in your life.

Dave brushes his lips against your cheek, his breathing evening out but his hand still tight around your bulge, reluctant to let go. You pull your hips up towards his, eager to disrupt his newfound rhythm as best you can. The friction of him sliding out and back in to you is almost enough to send you over the edge by itself, never mind the twisting motion his hand is doing.

"Fucking hell, Vantas..." Dave breathes out when you pull him into you again. You don't have words to respond, so you just pull him back in for a kiss, hands moving from his back to his hair as you pull a long string of curses from both of your mouths, both human and troll vulgarities piercing the otherwise silent respiteblock. Humans definitely got the better end of this deal, because this is the most fantastic feeling you've ever had. You've never felt closer to anyone else than you do to Dave right now.

You slowly build up a rhythm, stuttered with much-needed pauses as you both try in equal measure to put eachother off, keeping it interesting.

You're sat up, sucking and biting at the thin flesh of his neck when you feel that not-so-familiar feeling, the burning at the pit of your stomach, and he's gripping at you with such ferocity that you're surprised you haven't fallen back down. All thoughts of avoiding detection and saving face are gone and you're both openly moaning, muffled only by eachothers' mouths and flesh. He's got you pulled up onto his lap, with him knelt up on the mattress, his teeth scraping your ear as you bite at him lightly.

You feel his nails dig in a little harder than they were before, and your name in his breaths as he lowers you back down to the mattress. He's obviously feeling what you are, that impending finish line.

You barely have time for one more kiss before Dave keens, almost yelling your name into the pillow behind your head. The feeling of the warmth inside you and Dave's hand tightening on your bulge send you over the edge, throwing your head back as your body threatens to fold over double, clutching at the blonde above you with enough force to destroy any normal human. Luckily for you, Dave Strider is no normal human. You don't even care when he slumps down onto your chest, knocking the wind from you. Your bulge retracts from his hand, coiling itself back under the protective bone protrusion. Dave uses this to his advantage, bringing his now-free hand up to stroke your hair out of your face.

"You've done that before." You point out, more to make conversation than accuse him of anything.

"I'm not a nun." Dave quips back, not missing a beat, "But can we shut up about anyone else we might have ever done this with? It's us now."

You laugh a little, mockingly asking "Promise?"

"Shut the fuck up."

You realise when you get off the mattress that there's no mess to clean up. You're worried for a moment, panicking that you're more defective than you thought, pacing about the room and momentarily debating asking your lusus if it's normal before Dave chimes in from his place, still sat on the *horrifyingly clean* mattress.

"Hey, Karkat?" You stop and look at him, panic and fear rushing through your system, "Don't you basically only have that reaction for a red or blackrom encounter, of which we had neither?"

You stop, then, completely still as you think it over. He's right; there's no biological reaction in trolls for what you just had. You relax and sit down again, panic over, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Lesson over, how about that shower?"

You wash and change with minimal contact, showering at different times despite not actually needing to at this point. You figure Dave's just trying to save what little reputation he has left. He showers first, so when you come back into the room he's already dressed and messing about on your husktop, shades on. You're a little disappointed at that, but you don't say anything.

You chuck your towel elsewhere and walk over behind him, leaning your head on his still-damp mess of hair, breathing in the lack of scent that always follows a person after they've washed, free of their natural scent. You know Dave usually smells like a mixture of sugar and what you can only guess is what his communal hivestem - no, *apartment* - smells like.

"What're you doing?" You ask, digging your nails into his shoulder a little in warning as he clicks to open up your chat client.

"Gotta start somewhere, now come on my memory is shit, what were their chat names?"

You know who he means, so you reel them off, Dave adding each one systematically. None of them appear as online. Dave adds himself and the rest of the humans, assuming everyone has the same handle as they did before. Nobody's online.

"Maybe they're asleep, or out."

Just as he says that, the chat client pings up a notification window.

*ectoBiologist [EB] has signed in on sister client: Pesterchum*

The two of your freeze, staring blankly at the little alert window, another follows.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 00:13:

EB: hey!

EB: karkat is that you?

You exchange glances with Dave, reaching for the keyboard.

Maybe the two of you wouldn't have to wait so long after all.


End file.
